Of What Never Happened
by YouGottaSingAlong
Summary: This is my own series of drabbles and oneshots, extracts of what could have happened to some Doctor Who characters during “The Year That Never Was”. Some will contain Martha, some won't.
1. Gwen Cooper

_This is my own series of drabbles and oneshots , extracts of what could have happened to some Doctor Who characters during "The Year That Never Was"._

_This won't be UDed regularly, only when I get some inspiration._

Gwen Cooper stood on the shore at the southern tip of France, Marseille, in her hand a flashlight was clutched. Out of the black, a light flashed. Short-long-long-long, long-long-long, long-short, short, short-short-short. It was repeated three times before being hidden.

J, O, N, E, S.

Gwen held up her own torch. Long-short-long-short, long-long-long, long-long-long, short-long-long-short, short, short-long-short.

Martha watched the light flash. "C-O-O-P-E-R. It's her. Thank you." She shook hands with the Moroccan at the wheel. "Shkra lk"

Vaulting out of the RIB Martha splashed onto shore. "Gwen Cooper. Good to finally meet you."

"So you're the famous, Martha Jones?"

Martha smiled as they began walking up the shore, "That's me." Suddenly, Martha felt herself being dragged to the ground. Gwen clamped a hand over her mouth, covering her with her own frame. Two Toclafane hovered overhead, scanning the area. Laughing childishly, they flew away. Martha, confused rolled along the ground in the opposite direction of Gwen. "What just happened there?"

"Something Tosh was working on during our wild goose chase in the Himalayas. They can't see, or can't notice me at least, if I get down flat and don't move, don't make a sound. I haven't tried protecting someone else before though."

"I wouldn't count on it." Martha held up the TARDIS key. "It's perception filter, the Doctor gave it to me, how do you think I've travelled the world?"

"To be honest, I hadn't thought about it. I was too busy escaping the labour camps."

"It basically works the same way as your thing, I guess, people who don't _want_ to see you, don't."

"It sounds as if it works a little better than mine, no diving flat on your face." Gwen laughed ueasily. They reached a peice of high land, Gwen became solemn and stopped. Looking out over the Flat Lands of Europe, as far as the eye could see, the land was littered with glowing patches, and tiny dots of the slaves working on the plutonium pits of the rockets. The missiles. Gwen took Martha's arm, pointing at a tall dark figure, miles off.

"That's him," Her soft Welsh accent cracked. "That's the figure of him in Paris, they destroyed l'Arc de Triomphe and replaced it with _that_. Our lord and Master. Fifty metres into the sky, made of silver and bronze..." She trailed off, before giving a sly grin and continuing. "And a bit of copper."

"What?" Martha asked, missing the point of what Gwen was saying.

Gwen explained herself. "What colour does copper turn with exposure to moist air, Miss Jones?"

Martha's mouth formed into a wide grin, "You're turning the Master green?"

Gwen laughed shaking her head. "Just his hair and buttocks."

The two women laughed their way up to the car. Gwen got into the driver's seat, "I have a falsified license to drive, it was the last thing Ianto did for us before…"

Martha nodded, her brow furling. It was the same story everywhere she went. _Did for us before.. Died for us before..._


	2. SarahJane Smith

_Disclaimer: I don't own ANYTHING. In this chapter there is not a single character or concept I own. Except Ianto being on board, but that doesn't really count._

Sarah Jane Smith sat, barricaded, all but useless in her attic. Mr Smith had sealed off the room, nothing could get in, nothing could get out. He lay open, K9 sat in front of him, deactivated to save his battery, Sarah liked to think of it as sleeping. Her dog sleeping on… on… her giant-alien-computer-that-was-the-only-thing-that-kept-her-remotely-sane's lap. She laughed, with a slight note of hysterics underlying it. She sounded mad, insane. Mr Smith hummed, gently, comfortingly. Sarah walked through the attic, picking up a picture of her, Harry and the Doctor, she sighed.

"Where are you, Doctor?"

Mr Smith, as bored as a computer could get, decided to take this literally, "Sarah-Jane, I'm running an Earthwide scan for the Doctor."

"You can do that?" Sarah looked up. "Even with everything down."

"The Archangel satellites are still up and transmitting, Sarah-Jane. I can use them to scan the planet."

He bleeped for a couple more seconds before, "Sarah-Jane, I have located The Doctor."

She turned, "Where?"

"HMS Valiant. Aircraft Carrier, designed by former Minister for Defence," Mr Smith and Sarah spoke at the same time. "Harold Saxon."

Mr Smith continued, "He is one of six prisoners on board."

"Who else?'

"Clive Jones, Francine Jones, Letitia Jones, Captain Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones."

"Torchwood?" Sarah wasn't really asking. "Who are the Jones'? What's their relevance, what makes them valuable enough to remain alive in the Master's ship?"

"Clive Jones, Francine Jones, and Letitia Jones, family of fugitive and companion of the Doctor, Martha Jones, Ianto Jones, unrelated, Torchwood."

"Martha Jones. What can you get on her?"

"Briefly, Sarah-Jane. She has been travelling with the Doctor for over a year, a doctor in training, she is currently on the run on Earth, location unknown, the Archangel network cannot detect her. The Master's records indicate that she is searching for a weapon, scattered across the earth in four parts. It is believed that this weapon is the only firearm that can kill a Time Lord."

Sarah was sceptical, too many years of travelling with the Doctor, "Can you tell, Mr Smith, if such a weapon exists?"

"No such weapon exists."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Sarah-Jane. I have scanned for it since reports first came in. Jones was given a false weapon by a ex-UNIT officer, now Underground, Erik Calvin. It is my belief that Jones knows that this is a lie."

"I'd agree, Mr Smith. But, back to the point, is there anything we can do for the Doctor?"

"I'm afraid I cannot get a lock on the Doctor. If you wish to conduct an act of defiance," Mr Smith knew that what Sarah really wanted was to piss the hell out the Master, so he made his suggestion, "I suggest removing Ianto Jones from The Valiant."

Sarah thought for only a second. "Do it."

"The process may take some time."

"Take all the time you need."

"Thank you, Sarah-Jane."

Sarah sat back down, restless. She wished she could do more, but even the reckless side of her knew that it would be foolish, and no help to anyone, least of all herself, to leave her house. Instead she sat down to ponder. Pulling out her phone, a specially adapted phone given to her by the Doctor on their final meeting, she dialled in a number she had not called in over ten years, praying that he was old fashioned enough to have the same number.

------

General Benton pulled out his ringing phone. Every person in the room turned to him in astonishment, he pressed the green phone symbol, cautiously he spoke, "Hello?"

Sarah's crackling voice issued through the speaker. "Sergeant Benton. Thank god you're alive."

"Who is this? How did you get the phones working?" Benton at the urging of another officer turned it onto speaker as Sarah answered.

"It's Sarah, Benton. Sarah-Jane Smith. The Doctor adapted my phone, I'm working off a satellite ten million miles away."

"Ms Smith. It's good to know you're alive too, Miss. Is the Doctor with you? We could do with his brain in these times."

"No, the Master's got him."

"That's not good, Miss Smith, But… um, why are you calling? If that's not out of place, but it's not really the time for social calls."

"I have to agree, Sergeant," Several soldiers sniggered at the General being called "sergeant". Benton scowled at them threateningly as they moved off. "And this isn't a social call. I was wondering what you know about Martha Jones?"

Benton took her off speaker. "In what way?"

"Where she is, if you've seen her, anything important?"

"I probably shouldn't be telling you this, Miss Smith, but other than the Doctor, you're the only one I can trust, what with the Brig-"

"He's…? "

"I'm sorry, Sarah."

She swallowed, now was not the time for emotion, she had to finish this call, she couldn't risk the master or his cronies cutting her off. "It's fine, a lot of people died. You were saying?"

"I shouldn't tell you this but… Jones is due here in a week. Here in our base."

"Where are you, Benton? I forgot to ask."

"Just outside New York. I've got twenty men. You know, I should have retired by now but then Saxon mucks up my plans."

"I think Saxon ruined a lot of peoples plans, Benton." Sarah's voice fizzled with sarcasm.

"I didn't mean it that way, Miss Smith."

"I know, Benton, I'm sorry, I'm just tired," Sarah apologised. "Is that everything?"

"That's all."

"I'll speak to you in a week."

"I look forward to it, Miss Smith. Good luck."

"Good luck, Sergeant." She hung up. Benton was left staring at the phone, finally, for the first time in almost a year he felt a pleasant feeling in his stomach. Nostalgia. He smiled, walking off, "Sarah. Jane. Smith. Now that's a name I don't hear every day."

_Please review. Pretty please. Emily... review, this is what we call, "not angst"._


	3. Leo Jones

_A/N: Drabble. That's really it. Just Drabble. _

Leo Jones ran, he had a UCF soldier, and a death warrant on his head. _Bloody Martha, can't just keep her head down_. He had left his family in safety, and had left, they weren't searching for his family, only for _her_ family. But if rumour was right, Martha was on the run too, on Earth, travelling with a trail, a trail that told of her and the Doctor, of the word, at the end of the countdown, everyone had to think it, "Doctor". He had been told a tale that had travelled from France, by word of mouth, originating apparently from his sister, another tale from a Benton, and some that he himself told. The "Lazarus Experiment", was his main tale, as Martha would laugh if she knew he was a "Martha Jones". _But_, he noted, _I don't have to be risking my life for Martha and her Doctor_, _so why the hell am I_.

It was drizzling gently, it had been for months in Canada, it wouldn't stop. As if mourning the country's losses. Other than Japan, Canada had sustained the heaviest death toll. The Toclafane had hit Canada first in the removal of ten percent, death and burning, the hailstorm of spheres falling, the blades slicing out cutting into the people, cold and calculating. Leo was in a plane, led by the members of what would become the Resistance that were trafficking out enemies of "Saxon", when the globes fell.

He landed as the people fell.

_What the hey. No point in asking, you will or you won't no matter what I ask._

_Oh, and there's a Ianto being beamed out of Valiant comingnext that joins on to "Chapter 2: Sarah-Jane Smith._


End file.
